Harry didn't need a computer assisted social interaction enhancer to tell him he wasn't in trouble. Despite the fact that He was tied to a chair and cuffed with something that was disabling both his arm augmentations and magic. Meanwhile the face of Hermione Granger, mere inches from his own was too flushed from molesting his lips told him to not worry.

Or perhaps that was more the growing discomfort in his pants.

"Hermione, when do I get a turn?" Luna pouted and whined, drawing Harry's attention from her schoolgirl outfit to her face. Both Luna and Hermione were wearing your classic pervert's dream, the catholic school girl outfit, complete with mini-skirt and exposed navels. Harry would have escaped, he really would have, if not for the outfits, the provocative way they were speaking and that he woke up with a bushy brunette grinding into him with her lips locked on his.

It was either the worst interrogation or best way to wake up ever. Cybernetic implants and a complete disregard for the magical lifestyle did not change the fact that he was a teenager with desires. (Most of which we will not go into.) Also needless to say, Harry was rather enjoying the work over by two girls in provocative outfits bit. He's a young man, and to him, this was really sexy!

While his lips were either seized by either Hermione or Luna, Harry's eyes wandered about the room. It was a Hogwarts classroom, abandoned for some time if the dust was any hint, and all across the walls were white boards covered in notes, algorithms, and charts. There were whole books worth paper strewn about, rough designs of some of Sarif industries augmentations and even a dissected aug-arm on a table. The whole room looked like a parody of a think tank laboratory.

"I told you he wouldn't run away if we did this." Luna commented, interrupting Harry's third tongue twisting trial with Hermione. Harry agreed, mildly annoyed with the fact. Damn hormones.

Hermione daintily hopped off of Harry's lap, re-seating herself in another chair close by, and lifting a clipboard off the floor. "I know this is rather late, but I am so happy to meet you Harry."

Harry nodded, his brain still not functioning all the way. "The pleasures all mine." Harry mumbled, subtly shifting to hide his body's reaction to the lip locking.

"We know the methods were a little extreme, but we needed to talk to you and you've had a habit of ditching fans, interviewers, and fellow scientists for years." Hermione continued, still eying Harry like a meal to a starving woman.

Luna set up a chair next to Hermione, her schoolgirl outfit now partially covered by a white lab coat. Harry approved, somehow the lab coat just made it worse. "We've wanted to meet with you for so long Harry." Luna added, her eyes were lighting up with what Harry's C.A.S.I.E. identified as anticipation. "When we were younger, we both followed your exploits as the Son of David Sarif. Then when you got into the spotlight on your own, we started to idolize you."

Harry's eyes rolled, and a look of disdain crossed his features, "Please tell me you not Boy-who-lived groupies?" He groaned.

Luna and Hermione both switched from star struck and excited to utterly annoyed. "Don't group us in with those brainless twits." Luna commanded, in a very intimidating tone.

"Most Boy-who-lived fans just want you for the bragging rights, the Potter fortune and the political power that your family has." The brunette added.

Hermione's remark drew Harry's attention. "Whoa whoa, hold up a second. Whats this about a 'Potter fortune?' I was never told anything about any thing left behind by my DNA donors. I thought they left me jack shit?"

Both Hermione and Luna felt an eyebrow raise over that. Any and all Heirs that inherited anything of value usually got some form of education on their role in British Magical society. "Nobody told you this?" Luna asked.

"Nope."

"Seriously?"

"Yep. Not a word."

Luna and Hermione looked at each other and silently agreed, lip locking their idol could wait, there was educational work to be done. Soon Harry would learn two things: British magical economics and that the two women who kidnapped him had a brainy fetish that included teaching.

Poor Bastard.

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While his master was missing, Lightning was running around causing chaos. For the first time since it's start as a school, Hogwarts was without bacon. If that wasn't bad enough, there was dozens of puddles in the halls of Hogwarts. How a machine dog could produce so much urine was unfathomable. It just wasn't possible, where the school didn't stink of lingering dung bomb, it reeked of week old stale asparagus made dog urine. Where the two scents met was a crime against so many laws of nature. Many students refused to attend classes.

Lightning's rampage wasn't left with just petty bacon theft and yellow rivers running throughout the school. The teachers each discovered their personal offices had canine land mines left in impossible to predict areas. By noon, all the teachers had stepped in at least one poo-pile. The one regret Lightning had was the fact he lacked thumbs to do more with. There was only so much you could do with a fang filled robot mouth. He figured that the fact they wouldn't know how he produced so much waste material without the proper parts would make them question so many things.

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Albus Too-Many-Damn-Names Dumbledore's knees hurt. A lot.

Elders were not meant to spend hours on their knees trying to make other people happy. Spending his morning using his silver tongue to appeal to the magical upper class of Britain had left him exhausted. Albus had to use his talents on at least thirty people so far, and his throat was starting to feel rather sore and dry.

Talking to a bunch of politicians via floo network was rather unreasonable in large numbers. Who decided that the main means of magical communication needed to be done from a fireplace was mad.

The moment Harry used the title Minister Magi an old spell activated causing several effects. If Harry hadn't really done something worth the title his magic would have rebounded, causing an effect similar to all the worst torture curses being cast all at once. Second, every recognized magical government received notification from detector arrays that would tell them the Who, What, and When.

So when 'Harry Potter, Class-Twelve Necromancy/Creation/Summoning/Transfiguration, 31 October 2014' appeared across the earth, a lot of people wanted answers. Albus Dumbledore had them, and nobody liked them. (Except the American magicals who were enjoying the irony)

Not for the first time, Dumbledore was reconsidering forcing Harry back to England.

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Severus Snape was angry. Scratch that, he was furious. As he laid in a bed in the hospital wing, all that occupied his mind was how he would hurt whom ever had made that horrifying trap. His mind was fast on the road to homicidal obsession. Noticing her patient's blood pressure and increasing agitation she gave him a dreamless sleep potion, which sent him to oblivion.

Too bad the Hogwarts' healer never noticed Lightning sneaking in, equipped with shaving cream and a barber's tool set. After all, something had to be done about the potion master's hair.

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Lord Voldemort was upset.

This was something that had been a regular event for the last thirteen or so years, after the destruction of his body. The self proclaimed lord was thinking, something that usually meant disaster or destruction in the near future. The Boy who lived had been revealed to him again, but now things have changed because of it.

With his mutilation and merger with muggle filth the Boy was no longer a predictable puppet for the light, but rather a wild card, one that had to be dealt with care. The boy's hatred of Dumbledore and the ministry would help to spread discomfort towards muggles and the like, the magical people of England would never admit fault with themselves and would certainly blame the muggles for the 'irrational' hatred that their hero possessed.

It was a delicious irony, one that the self proclaimed dark lord planned to exploit. He only had to choose how.

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Harry's mind was struggling hard to keep all the new-found knowledge from leading from his head. To say that Luna and Hermione were enthusiastic teachers was equal to saying that a nymphomaniac liked sex. It just didn't do the excited obsession justice.

Even with implants in his brain, Harry could barely keep up. The flaunting of sex appeal and schoolgirl outfits didn't help his focus. Still, he at least caught the gist of what they were trying to pass on to him. Someone had screwed him over.

Harry had a deadpan expression on his face and a migraine beginning to form. "Let me get this straight. I have the rights to vote in the magical parlament, I should have a crap-ton of inheritance somewhere, and I should have an utter fuck-ton of money from advertising rights using that shitty boy who lived title?"

Hermione and Luna both nodded. "We're sorry to have to tell you this Harry, but you deserve to know." Hermione held Harry's hand to try to comfort him.

Luna moved her seat on his opposite side, taking the other hand. "Are you okay Harry?"

The cyber-boy frowned, deep in thought, "On one level I am, but I'm not sure how I am supposed to feel." Harry gently removed his hands from the girls and started rubbing his aching skull. "When I was younger, I wanted anything and everything I could find about my birth parents. Any hint of them was a treasure to me. Now I've got my dad, and I couldn't ask for a better one. He's risking blackmailing an entire culture to keep me safe! Who else can say they're dad would do that for them?"

Harry sighed. Harry groaned. Then Harry said a phrase that he wouldn't have uttered if he was paying attention. "Fuck me!"

The girls eyes lit up and both exchanged looks. They knew how to cheer Harry up.

"Teacher, can you help us with this problem?" Hermione purred into Harry's ear.

On the opposite side Luna was rubbing herself against the synthetic arm. "We'll be so grateful."

Harry's oncoming depression was blocked by a more prudent, more enjoyable issue."That does it. When I leave this brainless place I am so bringing these two with me."